


Heaven Help Us

by joestars



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joestars/pseuds/joestars
Summary: When Aziraphale looked back on his life, he noticed that the only consistent was Crowley. The only consistent love and acceptance hadn’t been from Heaven itself but rather, from his dearest friend in all the realms. It hadn’t been an easy realisation to face but luckily, he wasn’t alone.———Also known as Aziraphale’s journey through Earth and his own feelings for the one being who truly understands him.





	Heaven Help Us

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there are themes of internalised homophobia!

Well, Aziraphale wanted to yell to the Heavens as Crowley walked away, are you happy now?

All he’d ever wanted since Eden had dissolved was to get on with his job undisturbed. As the years went on, this want became unruly. There was something so undermining about having your every move tracked and scrutinised; every miracle, every word, every thought, every feeling. It was as if his world was under a microscope (and as the years went on, this began to both bug and worry him).

Around 41 AD, Aziraphale had begun to, well, grow fond of his adversary on earth. It hadn’t been intentional. One day, he’d caught Crowley helping a young child who was lost amongst the crowds back to his mother with a tenderness he hadn’t seen before. Maybe it hadn’t been what he’d thought it was; maybe Crowley had been amidst some evil deed and had tempted the child to steal some chickens or whatever it was he did in the process. But Aziraphale had always thought the best of people. So the sight tugged on his heart strings and then with a quiet swear (right under his breath so prying ears wouldn’t hear), he realised he was rather screwed.

A couple of days after the incident, he had “accidentally” bumped into the demon and invited him for dinner (“Let me tempt you - oh no wait, that’s your job,” he’d said in a poor attempt at flirting). It was silly. He felt extremely silly. Aziraphale logically knew that he shouldn’t give off any signals - God knew how mortifying that would be for him - and that he should nip whatever it was plaguing him in the bud. It was just so hard to do that. From the moment he’d met Crowley, he’d been aware that he wasn’t the average demon, looking to maim, kill, and corrupt. There was something more to him.

(Something more human, is what he realised after many centuries.)

——

“Well?” Aziraphale prompted, “How are your oysters?”

Crowley had disgust plastered on his face. “Not great, I’m afraid.”

“Then perhaps we should — oh, that hasn’t been invented yet... hold on a minute, dear.” He was desperate to make an impression, so a frivolous miracle wasn’t going to be frivolous in his books. All of a sudden, the first handheld menu appeared on their table. “Now, let’s get you something else. Remind me to take this with me once we’re finished, won’t you?”

The approving look on Crowley’s face was worth the stern memo he received the next day.

——

Despite the fact they really weren’t dating (yet, he hoped), Aziraphale always spoke of their dinners, lunches, brunches and Saturday night get-togethers as if they were. It was his own quiet solace. There’d been an undercurrent of longing for a very long time - one that, no matter how he tried, didn’t seem to quiet down. He’d tried to push Crowley away God knows how many times (only six times, She’d been keeping count) but all that resulted in was feeling extremely guilty.

So guilty in fact, that he begun to question if there was something wrong with himself. There was surely no other angel that held such feelings for a demon. The times he’d been at headquarters had made sure to remind him of that. Demons and angels were natural enemies; they should, at the very least, dislike each other.

But all Aziraphale managed to feel was the L word (it was love, the word was love but he refused to call it that).

Every time they had a spat, Aziraphale would be knocking on Crowley’s door, knowing he would’ve spent the night sulking in his usually unlived in houses. The reason he knew this was because Crowley, more or less, lived with him. And then they’d clear the air over a glass of wine and Crowley would show him the latest plant he bought while Aziraphale would have a bite of his favourite dessert at the time.

Their argument in 1862 was the only time their usual song and dance didn’t happen.

——

“Well?” Crowley said, desperation clear as daylight in his voice, after Aziraphale had gone quiet for a second too many.

“I’m not giving you a suicide pill, Crowley.” The words were even painful to say, “It’s out of the question.”

It had never crossed his mind in all the years they’d been friends that Crowley had been thinking about that. He’d always thought that if their Agreement ever came to light, they’d both face the consequences - together - and find a way to overcome it. Not through death, never through death. The idea made him overwhelmingly sad and worried for his best friend.

Then they argued, which made things worse. After a couple of days, Aziraphale tried to visit and rectify his mistake; there was still no way he’d give Crowley the holy water but he wanted to talk to him about it. Know the whys, the hows. Understand what was going through his head and try to find a solution that wouldn’t include killing him if the worst happened.

But there was no answer. There was no answer the day after that, either. Or the next. Or a week later. They’d argued before and Crowley had sulked before but never to this extent. Aziraphale first worried, and then after two months, got a little pissed off about it.

So he stopped dropping by. He left a strongly worded letter under Crowley’s doorstep outlining how he felt, that he wasn’t going to continue playing this game, and that if he was needed, he’d be at home.

Being alone was an odd feeling. Crowley had become an extension of himself and he felt like he’d lost a limb now that they were apart.

——

Before that moment, Aziraphale had never tried extremely hard to be a man. He’d never seen the use of gender and had been perfectly happy to go about his life being an angel and nothing more. Now that he was apart from the one person who understood that, Aziraphale found himself happy to fit into that box. He tried extremely hard at gender during that time; so hard, in fact, that he was invited to join a discreet gentleman’s club.

At first, he hadn’t exactly been aware of the connotations nor the function of such a club. Then, after he found out, Aziraphale thought it ended up describing him quite well. There were no closer terms for his love for Crowley than this one. It was a joy to finally be in a place with others who understood, felt exactly the same way he did, and could allow him to finally fit in. Aziraphale had never felt at home in Heaven, and for a while, he only felt at home on Earth while he was with Crowley but now he had a group of friends who he could relate to on every level. Well, except for being a divine being level. That was still exclusive to Crowley.

He had many experiences at that club in Portland Place; learning his first (and only) dance, having his first kiss(es), his first time having to reject someone. Actually, he had to tell quite a few patrons that he wasn’t available. Aziraphale might’ve turned into a bit of a heartbreaker.

——

On one particular night at the club, Aziraphale had drunk a little too much. He and a few others were sat in the library; they’d first started out discussing Wilde’s poetry but had meandered onto other topics, such as the very broad topic of love. Staring into his glass, he thought about what if he was meant to Fall as well to be with Crowley. Surely, there was no way an angel and a demon could be together.

“I wonder,” he began while there was a lull in the conversation, “if God might’ve made me wrong. I feel a certain way for someone, someone I shouldn’t feel such ways about.”

This was meant with contemplative silence; Aziraphale had grown to understand that quite a few of the gentlemen at the club had rejected, or at least questioned, religion as they tried to navigate their feelings, their world around them. While he was always steadfast in his faith (he had to be, he was an angel after all), he understood why humans would feel that way. Especially as other humans had used faith as a weapon against their feelings. It always saddened him how cruel others could be; this type of cruelty wasn’t exclusive to humans, either. However, he was aware that what he’d just expressed had been thought by many others before him, and most likely all of those in the room with him, too.

One of the other members eventually spoke up, breaking his train of thought. “God makes no mistakes. He made you how you are, and that includes those feelings, Aziraphale. They could never be wrong in the eyes of the Lord.”

After hearing those words for the first time in his long life, he cried.

——

After that time, he began to find the time to be a man. In fact, he enjoyed it. He bought a bookshop in Soho, he kept in touch with humans who understood him, and one day, got back in touch with Crowley.

When he saw Crowley hop into that church (for him!), Aziraphale well and truly knew he was so deeply in love with that man. It was the most freeing feeling in the world. He was in love with possibly the most selfless beings to exist.

Things didn’t go back to normal for a little while; even after he gave Crowley the Holy Water, things still felt different from before.

He hadn’t been ready that night to express himself. Wasn’t ready to say the words aloud. But he was getting closer to it.

However, after Adam was born and delivered, it seemed like they had gone back to their old ways. Crowley, drunk on his couch, talking nonsense about dolphins, as if those rocky few years hadn’t occurred at all. Well, that wasn’t quite right. It was as if those years had occurred and made them stronger because of it. If they could overcome that, they could overcome anything.

——

It had broken his heart to lie to Crowley, to tell him they weren’t friends, to make the man walk away from him under the most painful circumstances to exist. It was so painful.

Which was why he felt like cursing every single one of those angels Up There to Hell and back; he hadn’t lost his faith in God and her ineffable plan but he had burned his faith in his coworkers to the ground. They had caused him too much pain over the years, too much doubt. Aziraphale hadn’t lost sight of the Greater Good because of his time on Earth, nor his time around Crowley. He’d simply learned to see past the bullshit they peddled.

Which was why after Armageddon had been stopped and their respective executions avoided, Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand as they walked to the Ritz. It was why he told him everything; everything about his doubts, about his pain, about the horrendous guilt he felt for lying to his very best friend. And it was why, when they had gone back to the bookshop, he decided to kiss Crowley for the first time in 6,000 years. He’d had a lot of practice for this moment, after all.

——

“Crowley,” He said softly after they parted, “I really do love you.”

The sunglasses Crowley wore had been discarded the moment he entered the bookshop so Aziraphale had the perfect view to his soul; it was the prettiest thing on Earth, in Hell, and even in Heaven. “Really?” He asked, his voice full of hope, “You’re not just saying that because of... everything?”

“No, my dearest, I’m not.” Aziraphale answered, “I’ve loved you for quite a while. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say it before now.”

“No need for apologies, angel. I understand.” Crowley said before giving him a kiss in return.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! I wrote this on my phone so if there’s any mistakes, please let me know! 
> 
> God... they’re SO in love 
> 
> Tumblr: mcrmutual  
> Twitter: armenianbf


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